Beach blues, or why being polite isn't always the best option
by princegeorge
Summary: Mrs Patmore observes her closest colleagues after the day spent at the beach, and sees things aren't proceeding as she would like them to. She decides to intervene.
1. Chapter 1

**Beach blues, or why being polite isn't always the best option.**

_Mrs Patmore observes her colleagues after the day spent at the beach, and realises things are going pear-shaped. She decides to intervene. _

_Because I agree with Chelsie Dagger; there can never be too much post-beach scene stories! _

~o~

On their way back home everyone felt drowsy, the result of a day spent in the sun, and inhaling the fresh salty sea air. Some of the maids actually fell asleep in the train. Next to her, Daisy was dozing peacefully. It was a shame really, Mrs Patmore thought, how some of these young girls hardly ever left the house, and thus seldom enjoyed a bit of fresh air. The men at least sometimes had outdoor chores.

Mrs Patmore herself had enjoyed a blissful day of leisure, not something she was used to. Sitting comfortably in a beach chair, leafing through a magazine, enjoying the sunshine on her face and treating herself and Daisy to an ice cream, she thought she could get… No, she could not get used to this. However lovely it had been for a day, she preferred having something to do. Or was it because almost all of her life she had been used to always having something to do?

Mrs Patmore didn't know and decided it wasn't important anyway.

On the bench across from her, Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were having a polite conversation.

'I'm so sorry you got your skirt wet, Mrs Hughes. I hope you're not too uncomfortable.'

'Not at all Mr Carson, thank you. It's only around the hem, it will dry soon enough.'

Mrs Patmore groaned inwardly. Surely they weren't going back to being _polite_? After their paddling the waves together, holding hands, she had been sure something between them had changed at last. She felt the corners of her mouth curl at the memory; it had been the sweetest thing she'd seen since she had caught Mr Barrow playing with Miss Sybbie one afternoon. Miss Sybil Branson was obviously able to make Barrow show another side of himself, a sweet, gentle and caring side.

~o~

Breakfast the next morning did nothing to improve Mrs Patmore's hopes. Although she had breakfast in the kitchen with her own staff, there wasn't much that escaped her notice.

Good morning Mrs Hughes. And you Mr Carson. Have you slept well? I did, thank you.

She thought she noticed the slightest bit of awkwardness between them as well, no doubt caused by Jimmy and Paul's cheeky grins when they entered the kitchen together.

It did not bode well.

Three days of close observation later, Mrs Patmore decided she had to intervene. If anything, things between the two had become even more _polite_ and she felt they were drifting apart instead of closer. Now, Mrs Patmore would never have called herself a matchmaker, good heavens no! But sometimes one just had to act.

So in the quiet hour after lunch, when she knew Mrs Hughes was working on her books and ledgers, she prepared a tea tray and entered the housekeeper's sitting room after a short knock.

The woman was surprised. 'Mrs Patmore, what can I do for you?' she asked smiling.

'Have a cup of tea with me,' the cook answered. She put the tray down on the side table and started preparing them both a cup.

'Well, I always love a cup of tea, but I don't see how that could help you with anything,' Mrs Hughes said, a bit confused.

Mrs Patmore's eyes grew soft.

'I believe it might help you,' she said gently. When she saw the housekeeper's blush, she knew she had hit the nail right on the head. It was also obvious she wasn't happy. Mrs Patmore made sure the door was closed and sat down beside her friend.

'I thought you'd done it, Elsie.'

'Done what?'

'Defrost Mr Carson,' Mrs Patmore explained. 'The two of you on the beach…'

'I thought so too, but it looks like I didn't,' Elsie said, giving Beryl a sad smile.

'Why don't you tell me about it dear. It might ease your mind,' Beryl said.

Elsie sighed. 'I don't know what to do anymore, Beryl. He was so kind to me at the beach, cheerful almost, and even on the train back home he became the Butler again, all starched and ironed. Frosted, like you say. And the past few days…I'm sure you've noticed or you wouldn't be here. He is behaving so _polite,_ Beryl. It makes me think…'

With an impatient gesture she wiped a tear from her cheek.

Beryl waited for her to continue. She may wear her heart on her sleeve most days, but she also knew when to remain silent.

Another deep sigh.

'It makes me think he regrets it,' Elsie whispered, eyes full of worry. 'You know, that he regrets taking my hand and is afraid he put silly ideas in my head by doing so, and he wants to make sure I know he doesn't…he doesn't want that and he is pushing me away by being so _polite_ and correct it makes me want to scream.'

Only two more tears were wiped away, but Beryl could see how confused and unhappy her friend was.

'Oh Elsie, you're wrong about that, I'm sure,' she whispered and took her hand.

'How can you tell Beryl? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like he doesn't want me.'

'I can tell because like you said, I notice a great many things. And I can see past his starched and _polite _butler ways. I know, Elsie, ' she gently stroked her friend's cheek.

'I'm so confused,' Elsie whispered, 'and I hate myself for it, behaving like silly teenage girl.'

'You don't have to be the sensible one each and every day,' Mrs Patmore told her sternly.

She gave her a sad smile. 'I suppose you're right. Still, if this situation lasts another week I might actually start to scream.'

'That would be nice,' the cook said with a grin.

Elsie chuckled. 'Thank you Beryl, for cheering me up.'

~o~

'Are you all right Mrs Hughes?' Mr Carson asked the next morning. Even he had to notice the dark circles and her pale face, Mrs Patmore thought.

'I am well Mr Carson, thank you.'

Good heavens!

The silly woman still thought the butler was pushing her away and seemed to have decided to push back. Immediate action was needed.

So in the quiet hour after lunch, when she knew Mr Carson would be either busy polishing the silver, or in his office working on his invoices and ledgers, she prepared a tray of fresh brewed coffee and entered Mr Carson's office after a short knock.

He was at his desk indeed, and jumped at her arrival.

'Mrs Patmore, I am busy! What are you doing here!'

'I am bringing you a cup of coffee,' the cook answered.

'I say, that's very kind of you. Thank you, Mrs Patmore,' he said as gentle as possible, wanting her to leave his office.

But she didn't take the hint. She put down the tray on his desk and prepared them both a cup.

'There you are Mr Carson. Lots of milk and one lump of sugar, just the way you like it.'

'Mrs Patmore, I am busy! I have no time for…'

'However, I prefer my coffee without sugar and just a few drops of milk. And I need to speak to you, Mr Carson!' Mrs Patmore told him and sat down in the visitor's chair.

'What the…' he started to rage.

'I am not leaving Mr Carson, so you might just as well sit down, enjoy your coffee and listen to what I have to discuss with you,' she said, looking very determined.

'Oh all right then,' Mr Carson sighed. 'Pray tell, what on earth is so important?'

~o~

**TBC! If you want it.**

**Please tell me what you think, love george **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you all for your lovely and encouraging reviews! Here's the next part. I believe I should warn for language here, (Mrs P speaking her mind) although imho it's very mild. **

**Here go, hope you like it! **

~o~

'Anna, have you got any idea what's wrong with Carson? He's been walking around the house as if he's lost something,' Lady Mary asked her maid when she was being dressed for dinner.

'I wouldn't know, milady,' answered Anna. But when her lady had described Mr Carson's mood, she realised with a pang that it was exactly how he had looked the past few days. She knew Lady Mary and Mr Carson had a deep affection for each other, so she followed her line of thoughts.

'I'd say it started after we spend our day at the beach, milady,' she mused.

'Mm, I believe you're right. Do you think he didn't enjoy the beach? I'd say Carson's idea of fun would be visiting a museum.'

Another hit on the mark. Anna chuckled, while she put hairpins in place.

'In fact, that was among his first suggestions, as was a visit to the Crystal Palace. I'm sorry to say most of the staff's idea of fun went another way, and then a few days later he announced we were going to the beach. That was brilliant, a whole day outdoors! We loved it. But even so, I think he had a nice day. Miss Baxter told me he and Mrs Hughes waded through the water together, holding hands.'

'He and Mrs Hughes?'

'So Daisy and Miss Baxter say, milady.'

When they looked at each other via the mirror, Lady Mary and Anna noticed each other's twinkling eyes and knew they were thinking the same.

'Carson and Mrs Hughes…Anna, that is so sweet!' the lady said, smiling broadly. 'Don't you think it's utterly romantic?'

'Yes, milady it is,' Anna answered, suddenly seeing the situation clearly, 'but perhaps that's the problem as well.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, if it's true and they are in love, they can't be together or they'll lose their jobs,' Anna said.

'What? Of course not! I would…'

'Butlers and housekeepers can't marry, milady. His Lordship would never accept that.'

Lady Mary's shoulders dropped.

'You're right of course,' she sighed. 'I suggest we keep our theory to ourselves then, Anna. As you said, we don't even know if it's true. But I'll look out for them. You know, I want Carson to be happy. He and I have always been close.'

'My lips are sealed milady.'

'And so are mine. Thank you, Anna.'

They shared a conspiratorial smile.

~o~

Mr Carson had been left flabbergasted after Mrs Patmore's visit that afternoon. He had been sitting at his desk for half an hour after she had left, staring at his pencil-sharpener. Now he was supervising dinner service and found he could not get the conversation out of his head. It repeated itself while he was serving out the wine.

'I'll tell you what's so important Mr Carson!' the short-tempered woman had announced hotly.

'I'd be grateful if you did because I am busy!'

'Very well, I shall get to the point immediately then. What happened that day at the beach?'

He gaped at her.

'The day at the beach? I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mrs Patmore,' he answered.

'And I am sure that you do,' she stated bluntly.

'I don't…'

'Mr Carson, please. What did you mean by walking hand in hand with Mrs Hughes?'

His cheeks immediately turned beet red. 'I am sure I didn't mean anything at all, Mrs Hughes offered me her hand because I was afraid to fall over, and…'

'And you took it. Tell me, how do you feel about Mrs Hughes?'

He cleared his throat.

'Well. She is an excellent housekeeper and a fine colleague. She does….'

'Come on, Mr Carson. I am not blind,' Mrs Patmore growled.

'That is good for you but I don't see what more there could be about…'

She cut him off again.

'You love her, Mr Carson.'

'What! I don't…I have never…I…you,' he spluttered.

'Come on now Mr Carson!'

The butler threw her a glare that would have reduced the entire staff to tears, but mrs parmore was unaffected. She stared him down and raised an eyebrow.

It took some time but finally he had to admit defeat. His shoulders slumped and he heaved a sigh.

'Very well, you'll have it,' he growled, but before he spoke he opened his desk drawer and produced a hip-flask. He opened it and poured a small amount in his coffee.

'Sorry Mrs Patmore, but I need a drop of whisky now. You?' he held out the flask to her and she held up her cup.

'Cheers Mr Carson, Now out with it.'

Another deep sigh.

'And if I did, what would be the point? Think about it Mrs Patmore. What can I offer her?' As angry as she had been with him before, she was touched by his sad tone.

'You could make her happy,' she said simply.

'How?' He sat upright and now sounded almost desperate. 'In my view, the best I can offer her is a clandestine affair, sneaking in and out of each other's rooms in the wee hours,' he continued. 'I don't want that and I don't want to do that to her, she deserves much better. I would want to marry her, and that would leave us both out on the streets, with no home and no job. Of course there are options, but she didn't work hard all her life to reach this position to just throw it away to run a grocery shop in some village with me.'

Mrs Patmore let this information sink in.

She poured them another cup of coffee and then asked, 'is that why you have been behaving like you did? You want to discourage her?'

'I suppose so,' he sighed. 'The way she looked at me that day, flirting with me, looking so delightful and happy, and I was foolish enough to take her hand.'

'Didn't you want to?'

'There's nothing I wanted more but it was a mistake. I know she… cares about me but it's best she should not know about my feelings for her. Like I said, what would be the point?'

A silence followed after this confession, during which they sipped their coffee, laced with another dash from the flask.

Mrs Patmore had felt the anger rise again, but she managed to stay calm.

'Well, I see you have thought it over very thoroughly,' she said.

He nodded. 'I did. It's for the best,' he said, wearing his butler face again.

'So you said. And what does Mrs Hughes say about all that?'

He looked up in shock and she was certain he had never, ever thought about that.

'What? Well, I don't…I mean I have never told her any of that, of course not! That would be…'

But Mrs Patmore couldn't keep her anger at bay anymore, she jumped from her chair and burst out.

'So you decide for her what she wants and what she should do without even asking her how she feels about that?! Who are you Mr Carson, God in Heaven?!' she roared. 'Have you any idea what you are doing to that poor woman?! She's at the point of breakdown, she hardly eats anything and she cries herself to sleep at night… Oh yes, she does Mr Carson! I hear her every night and it's all because of you and your bloody _politeness_! Because you think you know what's best for her!'

He was speechless. He didn't even try to scold her for her swearing. He just sat there and stared at the fuming woman in front of him, hands on her hips, eyes shooting daggers at him.

'But…it's because I love her,' he said helplessly.

'Then you've got a right stupid way of showing that!'

'But what should I do?' he asked confused.

'You should bloody well TALK to her!' Mrs Patmore exploded again. 'Right now she thinks you don't want her and it's breaking her heart! I'm telling you Mr Carson I would not be here if I didn't know she loves you, although at the moment I can't see why! Did I make myself clear?!'

The cheek of that woman!

But he was drained of all energy and just said, 'I get your point Mrs Patmore.'

'I am glad. I'll be off then, dinner to prepare. And I expect a change in poor Mrs Hughes within two days! Good day to you Mr Carson!'

And she had sailed out of his office, leaving him unable to move until Edward reminded him it was time for the dressing gong.

And now he was serving out the wine, something he had done a million times thank heaven, because when asked, he couldn't have said whether he was serving out wine of potatoes.

She thinks you don't want her, the wretched woman had shouted at him. She cries herself to sleep. She loves you.

The words whirled around in his mind, and slowly he began to realise what he had done.

'Carson?' Lady Grantham asked gently. He had been standing next to her with the wine carafe for almost two minutes.

'Oh, I'm sorry milady.'

Mrs Hughes, his Elsie, as he had called her in his dreams for years, thinks he doesn't want her. She cries herself to sleep.

'Mr Carson, should we go fetch dessert?' James whispered.

'Hm? Ah yes, very good James.'

The family had noticed the butler's absentmindedness, but didn't thought too much of it. Perhaps he wasn't feeling well. He did look a bit tired, Lord Grantham thought, and decided he would relieve Carson of his evening duties and do with Barrow instead.

Lady Mary however had been watching the butler the entire evening and was worried about him.

~o~

**A/N Please leave a review if you have the time…they make my day! x george **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**A/N Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews! They make my day, x george **

~o~

'Carson my good man! You look a bit tired this evening, I suggest you take an early night! Barrow can take over your duties for the evening!' Lord Grantham suggested to his butler when dinner was finished.

'I am quite well milord, there is no need…'

'Nonsense! You need your rest!'

'Very well milord,' Mr Carson answered, having no other choice.

He thanked his lordship and left the room.

~o~

Safely ensconced in his office, he set to work on his ledgers and invoices, and found he was unable to do so. Mrs Patmore's speech kept pestering his mind. Mr Carson had been so sure that his decisions were the right ones, both for him and Mrs Hughes, that the cook's tirade had been nothing less than a complete shock for him.

He frowned and repeated the afternoon's conversation, by want of a better word, in his mind, now that he was bit more relaxed he could probably see things in a better light.

Of course what she'd said was impossible, he soon realised. Mrs Hughes was a practical sensible woman who wouldn't fall apart just because he was _polite _and treated her with the utmost respect, like she deserved. Nor would she cry herself to sleep at night, not under any circumstance. Utter nonsense! The cook must be mistaken, it had to be someone else she'd heard. Or perhaps there were mice in the attics again.

No, no. It was for the best, he told himself again. Even if she did care for him, he was doing the right thing in discouraging her. Even…yes, even if he did love her. She would get over it, and so would he, in time.

Thus having convinced himself again, he set to work. Lord Grantham had told him to have an early night, but the paperwork didn't wait.

After an hour of quiet work, someone knocked at the door and he jumped in his chair. Heaven forbid it was the dreaded cook again or worse, Mrs Hughes checking on him as she was wont to do. Suddenly he wasn't sure if he could manage to keep his face straight if she did.

Well, whoever it was he had to face them.

'Come in,' he grumbled and to his surprise Lady Mary entered his office.

He rose from his chair.

'Good evening milady, how can I help you?'

'Good evening Carson, she said with a gentle smile. 'I came to see how you were, I was worried about you at dinner.'

'I am quite well milady, thank you. I apologise for any trouble I might have caused.'

'Oh, I wouldn't say you caused trouble, Carson. Only, I saw you putting the carving knife and fork in the soup-tureen and that just isn't you.'

He startled at that.

'Did I? I apologise milady, that was most careless of me,' he said, feeling very silly.

'Well, you did although I believe no one but me noticed. So tell me Carson, since we're old friends, what's the matter with you?'

He gaped at her.

'I...nothing milady, nothing at all,' he tried to assure her while he felt his cheeks grow hot.

'I see. And how is Mrs Hughes these days?'

He swallowed.

'I am sure she's perfectly well, milady.' What in heavens name is going on? he thought while his collar seemed to grow a bit too tight.

'I just wondered,' lady Mary said carelessly. 'I don't know Mrs Hughes all that well, but she seems to be a bit down these past week. You know, not quite like her normal self. Just like you, Carson.'

He straightened his back.

'If Mrs Hughes has made any mistakes, I'm sure it…' he began.

'She never makes mistakes, that's not what I mean Carson,' Lady Mary said, looking him in the eyes.

'Of course not milady.'

'Good. Now, Papa told me he is running out of his favourite ink and he mentioned he'd be happy if you could go into town and purchase new supply. Also, there are a few items I ordered last week and like to have picked up at the dressmaker's in Oxford Street. It's all ladies garments so as not to embarrass you, I arranged for both you and Mrs Hughes to have tomorrow afternoon off so you can run the errands together. Mama agreed and I already informed Mrs Hughes.'

Again he gaped a her, not knowing what to say.

'I assume you'll be fine with that?' she said.

'Of course milady. Yes. That's…very well.'

'I am glad. Goodnight then, Carson,' she said and left.

'Goodnight milady,' he murmured.

Damn and blast!

~o~

'Did you?' Anna asked wide eyed that evening, when she was helping lady Mary to get ready for bed.

'I certainly did,' the lady answered. 'I've been thinking about it and I know Carson. He needs a nudge in the right direction every now and then. I happened to be present when Mama and Mrs Hughes discussed dinner and the guest rooms for this Saturday's party. She looked so sad and pale. I'm sure we're right about or theory Anna, so I decided to force Carson to spend some time out of the house with her.'

Anna chuckled.

'And you just happened to be present, milady?' she smiled. Lady Mary smiled back, eyes twinkling.

'Yes, isn't it fortunate? It was how I was able to observe our housekeeper.'

'Well, I hope it works out,' Anna said. 'Will that be all milady?'

'Yes, thank you Anna. Goodnight.'

~o~

The next morning at breakfast, both Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson looked as if they had spent half the night awake and Mrs Patmore narrowed her eyes. She hardly ever left the downstairs, but Anna and Miss Baxter kept her informed, so she knew all about Lady Mary's scheming.

They both must have been tossing and turning half the night, dreading their afternoon off, she concluded, and after watching them closely during breakfast she shook her head in despair.

She wouldn't have thought it possible, but the butler acted even more _polite,_ almost starched towards the housekeeper. She noticed Mrs Hughes' lacklustre eyes and her slumped shoulders, and she knew she had to have a word with Mr Carson again.

The quiet hour before lunch saw Mrs Patmore unusually busy. While kneading the dough for her famous apple pie that was to be this evening's dessert, she had been thinking and planning. Mr Carson needed another strong reminder, that much was clear, but Elsie wasn't doing well either.

So she prepared a cup of chocolate and slipped into the housekeeper's office when she was sure to find her alone.

The woman sat at her desk and jumped at the door opening but smiled when she saw Mrs Patmore enter.

'Hello Beryl, I'm glad to see you.'

'So you should, I've brought you a hot cocoa.'

'Oh thank you!'

'You're welcome. Now Elsie listen, I know you're going to town with Mr Carson this afternoon. I know he's been pushing you away these days, but it's not what he wants even if he doesn't know it himself. You can have him Elsie dear, but you've got to work for it! Be like you were that day at the beach! Laughing and happy and flirting. Wear your new hat and that lovely green scarf!'

'I don't know, Beryl,' she sighed. 'He's been so _polite _and aloof, are you sure?'

'Yes, I am! You've got to win him over and you can do that, but you've got to make an effort! He wants you, love. Make him talk to you.'

'Are you sure?' she asked again, but Beryl noticed a tiny spark in her eyes. She chuckled.

'Seduce him, Elsie. You can do it, you did very well at the beach.'

'I didn't seduce him!' Elsie gasped.

'Oh yes you did and you know it! Now take the next step. It has to be you, you know, or he will never admit his feelings.'

Elsie leaned back in her chair.

'I suppose you're right…thank you Beryl.'

'My pleasure. Now, I've got to go. Drink your cocoa while it's still warm!'

Mrs Patmore gave her friend a brief hug and left the room.

In the corridor, she walked into Anna.

'Is Mrs Hughes al right, Mrs Patmore?' the young woman asked her.

'I certainly hope so,' the cook sighed. 'But if you've got the chance, make sure she looks her prettiest when she goes out. Not that awful black hat, you know what I mean.'

'I'll try my best Mrs Patmore,' Anna grinned.

'Thank you dear. I'm not doing this for them you know, I just need them to be on good terms or I can't do my job!'

'Yes, of course Mrs Patmore.'

Back in the kitchen, Mrs Patmore prepared a cup of hot, strong coffee, placed it on a tray and went to the butler's office. She knocked and entered without waiting for an answer.

'What…' he began.

She put the tray on his desk.

'I've brought you a nice fresh cup of coffee Mr Carson, you're welcome. And I'd like to hear your plans for this afternoon,' she stated bluntly.

'I say, you are going too far now Mrs Patmore! My plans for today are none of your business!' he barked.

'And I say they are!' she snapped. 'I want my kitchen to run smooth, and with both heads of the house being miserable I am too distracted!'

'Still, it's none of your business!' he snapped back.

'Listen Mr Carson. I watched you both at breakfast this morning and you're not making any progress! In fact you're making things worse, if possible! Now tell me, what are going to do this afternoon?!'

'I believe we have some errands to run,' he answered.

'That's right, that will take you about an hour and you've got the whole afternoon off. Anything else?'

He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

'Mrs Patmore. I've said it before and I will say it again, what you are suggesting is impossible.'

She glared at him.

'I see. You haven't been talking to her, have you. You still think you know what's best for her!' Mrs Patmore spat out those last words as if they were profanities.

'But…' he began.

'Run your errands, go window-shopping in Oxford Street and treat her to a nice afternoon tea! Pay attention to her Mr Carson, and most important, stop being so bloody _polite_! and listen to her for once!'

'Thank you Mrs Patmore,' he replied stiffly.

'Don't mess it up!' she warned him, turned around on her heels and left his office.

~o~

Back in her kitchen, Mrs Patmore prepared herself a cup of tea. Heaven above, but she needed a cuppa! Those two were giving her headaches. She sat down on her small desk, sipping her tea.

'Are you all right Mrs Patmore?' Daisy asked her.

'I hope so my dear,' she sighed.

~o~

**A/N Please leave a review if you can spare a moment, I love and cherish all reads and reviews! Next chapter a report on the outing to Oxford street? **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**A/N The last chapter! **

~o~

'Cora, would you mind if I had a word with Mrs Hughes?' Mrs Crawley asked lady Crawley that afternoon while they were enjoying tea. 'There's something I'd like to hear her opinion about.'

The earl frowned. 'What on earth do you need Mrs Hughes' opinion for?' he huffed. His wife threw him a glare.

'O, I can think of a number of things,' she said sharply, 'after all I am lucky to have such a competent housekeeper and I am happy to share her with Isobel now and then!'

'I see,' the Earl muttered, and paid his attention to the financial pages of the paper again.

'However, it's got to wait Isobel, Mrs Hughes is having her half day off,' Lady Grantham told Mrs Crawley.

'No problem, it can wait,' Isobel said but Robert shot upright in his chair.

'What! Is she out? On the same day as Carson? I don't understand how you could allow her Cora! Who's managing the staff when they' re both away?!' he growled.

'I believe Mrs Patmore is capable enough to handle the staff for a few hours,' the countess told her husband.

'I'm sure she is,' Mrs Crawley grinned. 'Not one to mess about with, your cook, Robert.'

'That's not the point. The butler and the housekeeper are responsible for this household and they should not…'

'Oh, leave it Robert. You always say Carson is the only one who knows which ink you prefer and Mary needed to have some personal items picked up at the seamstress, an errand that would surely embarrass Carson so she asked Mrs Hughes. I see no problem with that. They'll be back in time for dinner, don't worry,' lady Grantham said impatiently. 'And before you ask: no, Anna wasn't available, she's helping Mary creating a new hairstyle. A modern one!'

~o ~

Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were unaware of the uneasiness their trip had caused and strolled along Oxford street, enjoying the shop windows and the nice weather. First they had gone to pick up lady Mary's order; a rather small parcel Mr Carson noticed when she exited the shop. He gently offered to carry it and she gave it to him. For Lord Grantham's special ink they went into one of the most elaborate stationer's shop. While Mr Carson made the shop attendant go to the stockroom three times before he was satisfied with the type of ink the young man brought over, she browsed the shop's many shelves, admiring the notebooks and the beautiful stationary. Pens and pencils of every kind, ledgers, writing-cases and desk sets, she loved it. A look at the price tags made it clear why a housekeeper wasn't supplied with fine material like that. Still, it was nice to watch, she decided.

It took Mr Carson surprisingly long to make arrangements with the shop assistant, but she didn't pay much attention, but finally he thanked the poor harried man and they were on their way out.

Two thirty, errands done and at least two more hours to spend. Of course he could propose to return back to Grantham house but Mr Carson knew he would have to bear the cook's ire if he did so. And, he decided, he actually didn't want to do so. He thought about the proper thing to do and decided to offer her his arm would be a way to test the waters.

So he held out his arm to her, albeit a bit stiffly, and she took it with a sweet smile. They had been walking to church together for two decades every Sunday, and in winter when the road was covered in ice or snow he had offered her his arm on occasion, but he had to admit this felt different. He liked this. He remembered the beach for the umpteenth time. It had felt right to hold her hand there, just as it did to stroll along Oxford street with her hand nestled in the crook of his arm. He thought about Mrs Patmore and what she'd said again, and studied his companion's face. She looked much more relaxed than he'd seen her in days. A faint smile on her face, some colour on her cheeks. Probably the fresh air of course. But then…

He decided to take another step.

'Mrs Hughes?'

'Yes, Mr Carson?'

'We have a few hours left before we have to return. It's a lovely day, so I wondered if you'd agree on a walk through Hyde Park with me, and perhaps have a cup of tea after that?'

'I'd like that very much, Mr Carson,' she said, giving him that sweet smile again. 'It is indeed a nice day, and we don't get to spend much time outdoors.'

They walked on in silence, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. In any case, Mr Carson was too busy to notice it if it were. His mind kept racing. What should he do now?

They entered the park and enjoyed the sunshine, the flowers and the faint sounds of children playing.

Talk to her! Listen to her! Mrs Patmore's voice boomed in his ears as clear as if she was standing next to him. He felt he had to do something, say something.

'Mrs Hughes,' he began, as if the cook had prodded him in the side.

'Yes, Mr Carson?'

He didn't know how to continue and cleared his throat. She looked up at him, questioning.

'Have you seen much of London?' he managed.

'Oh no, I have been here only once before, a long time ago. And then like most servants, I only saw the inside of the house I worked in. I am very grateful you are showing me all this, Mr Carson.'

'It is my pleasure,' he said. 'Hyde Park is one of London's oldest and most loved parks. I am particularly fond of it and I try to visit it whenever I've got the chance.'

'I envy you sometimes, you know,' she sighed. 'Even when you've got to work even harder here than at Downton during the season, you've got the chance to slip out now and then and see a bit of London. The other world.'

He suddenly knew exactly what he had to say now. Did he dare say it? He took a deep breath and plunged in.

'Yes and I take every opportunity, but even London looks prettier when visited in good company Mrs Hughes.'

Her fingers clenched around his elbow.

'I suppose it does, Mr Carson,' she said gently.

They walked along the sunny park lanes. Mr Carson was somewhat surprised his declaration had not had the desired effect. What could have gone wrong? After all he had made himself perfectly clear. Why did she not respond?

Again, it seemed like Mrs Patmore was yelling to him. She thinks you don't want her! the cook reminded him.

Utter rubbish! Didn't he just tell her he liked London more when visited in good company?

Yes but she thinks you don't want her! She thinks good company to you is someone else!

It was amazing how one could hear a person howl even when they were miles away.

Mr Carson was confused, but he didn't say anything. He needed time to think.

'Mr Carson?'

'Yes, Mrs Hughes.'

'I don't want to disturb any plans you might have but it's getting a bit late, perhaps we should find a place to have tea before we return?'

He cleared his throat.

'Of course Mrs Hughes, I'm sorry. I know just the perfect place, it's not far from here.'

~o~

Lady Mary sat in her dressing room, in front of the mirror and watched her reflection carefully.

'I don't know, Anna. It's nice, but I've read about a style called shingle, and it's said the newest fashion is to have one's hair cut short. What do you think about that?'

'I don't know milady, the one thing I've heard is that it doesn't lessen the time one's got to spent on the hair, quite the contrary I've been told. But if that doesn't bother you I say, why not go for modern times?' Anna smiled.

'Hm… what would Bates say if you'd cut your hair short?'

'Oh, he wouldn't like it at all milady. He loves taking my hair down and…' she coughed gently, 'but then I suppose he is an old fashioned man.'

'I don't know about that,' Lady Mary mused while combing her fingers through her dark locks. 'Matthew loved my long hair and so does Master George, although he is more fond of chewing on it.' They both laughed.

'I will not cut my hair anytime soon,' Lady Mary decided after a final look in the mirror.

'I like this style you gave me.'

'Thank you, milady!' Anna smiled proudly. She put down the comb and hairpins, folded the towel and then caught lady Mary's frown in the mirror.

'Did my plan work, Anna? I heard my father wasn't pleased about Carson and Mrs Hughes having the same day off.'

'Oh no he wasn't pleased milady,' Anna answered, 'but Lady Grantham and Mrs Crawley were present when he learned about it and in the end he was fine with it.'

'I suppose he had no choice,' Mary smiled. 'Bless darling Isobel. So they went out together?'

'They did, milady.'

'Oh, do tell me about it Anna, please?!'

~o~

The tearoom was very good and they'd had an excellent tea. Still, when they left the place Mr Carson felt something was not quite right. He peeked at Mrs Hughes, who walked calmly beside him. Her face didn't read much. He went over the conversation they'd had during their tea, and then it hit him. It had been a very _polite _conversation he realised, and Mrs Patmore had been very clear on that point.

'That was a lovely tea Mr Carson, have you been there often before?' Her voice broke his musing.

'Yes, quite a few times.' Go on man! he nudged himself mentally. 'But just like our walk in the park earlier, I enjoyed it much more now that I am in such good company. Thank you, Mrs Hughes,' he said and he knew he was finally on the right track when he was rewarded with a sweet smile.

'I enjoyed it too, Mr Carson. Thank you for showing me a bit of London today,' she said.

'It was my pleasure, sharing a few of my favourite places with you,' he smiled back. 'It's a pity we have to go back to Grantham House already, I would have loved to take you out to dinner and then perhaps to the theatre…see a show…there are so many things I'd like to share with you, Mrs Hughes.' My life. Everything.

'Perhaps the next time,' she said warmly.

'I certainly hope so.' He offered her his arm again and she took it gladly. He noticed she walked a bit closer to him and she looked a lot happier, and then he realised Mrs Patmore had been right all along, and he had been a blind fool.

'Mrs Hughes, I need to apologise to you,' he began.

'Oh, I'm sure there's no need for that!'

'But there is Mrs Hughes. Please, may I explain?' She nodded, looking a bit confused, and he went on.

'I have to apologise for my behaviour towards you this past week. Since our day at the seaside I've had troubles understanding my feelings. I was attracted to you, even more than usual I'd have to say, and I didn't know what to do. What I wanted to do, very much, is ask your permission to court you, but then I thought about the consequences. Because if you'd allow me to court you, I would want to spent much more time with you, in fact, every hour of every day. I might even be tempted to ask for your hand in marriage, and if you accepted me that would mean we'd lose our jobs. And you have worked so hard and so long to be where you are now; the best housekeeper Downton has ever seen. You love your work and you're good at it, and you would have to give all that up. And I decided I couldn't ask that from you…Elsie. I'm so sorry.'

She said nothing, so he nervously shot her a glance and was startled by her wet cheeks.

She stood still and glared at him so violently that it shocked him.

'So you decide for me what I want?! Am I permitted to have a say in that myself?!' she spat.

'I'll tell you what I want, Charles Carson! I want you to leave me in peace!'

She turned and walked away from him.

'Elsie, please…' he begged.

'Don't you Elsie me!'

He stood there, helpless, and two workmen that passed by grinned at him.

'Ye're in the doghouse mate!' one of them cried.

'Go after her you dolt!' the other one shouted.

That shocked him into action and he indeed went after her, seeing she was going in the wrong direction. With his long legs he soon caught up with her and he grabbed her arm.

'Elsie, please stop.' She tried to tug her arm free, but his grip tightened.

'Come with me,' he said gently and he took her to a nearby small park and found them an empty bench. He gently pushed her down on it while she began to cry with anger.

'Have you any idea what you've done to me?!' she cried, banging her fist against his chest.

'Please tell me,' he whispered, catching her fist in his large hand and pressing a kiss on it. He placed his arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her closer.

She sobbed against his chest and he stroked her hair and held her in his arms until she finally calmed down.

He gave her his handkerchief and she wiped her face, then took a deep breath.

'Charles, you've made me so unhappy I wanted to die,' she whispered, so soft he could barely hear her. But he did and he felt a deep shame. He said nothing, he just listened.

'When you took my hand that day I was delighted, because I thought you…cared for me, and I have cared for you so much and for so long. I've had dreams… you know, silly daydreams. About you and me retiring together, getting married, living in a small cottage with a garden and a cat. And then you took my hand and you even got your feet wet, and we had fun and it was so beautiful and it felt so very right and I thought maybe… maybe my dreams might come true one day. But then we were back at the house and suddenly you treated me like stone and I didn't understand. So I thought you regretted your actions at the beach. That you didn't care for me and didn't want me. That you didn't like me. I couldn't help myself and I became desperate. If it wasn't for Beryl I don't know what I'd done…she kept me on my feet…'

Mr Carson didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He just held the woman he loved in his arms while he felt tears sting behind his eyes. Poor darling Elsie…what had he done? He'd thought he knew what was best and as a result he'd made her want to die. Beryl Patmore had been there for her and had comforted her. The short tempered cook had a sharp eye and she'd seen right through his pompous ways. He had been offended by her tongue lashes, but now he felt she should have hit him over the head with her rolling-pin. He deserved nothing less.

Elsie had calmed down, she leaned against him, looking a bit tired and clutching his handkerchief in her hand like a little girl.

He stroked her shoulder and dropped a kiss on her forehead. She sighed and cuddled up to him, and he held her close.

'I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me Elsie. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I decided to do what I thought was best and believe it or not, I did so because I love you.

I love you Elsie, and I have loved you for years. I have been an idiot and a blind one at that. I was so sure I was doing the right thing. Beryl managed to knock some sense into me, that woman is a gem. She told me to stop being so bloody_ polite_, those were her exact words.'

He paused and gently stroked her cheek.

'Elsie Hughes, I love you very much and very deep. I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. If you can forgive me for my faults, would you tell me what you want, please?'

She didn't answer him immediately and he held his breath.

'I forgive you Charles,' she whispered.

He felt a wave of relieve he never thought possible.

'And I love you, too. You may have your faults but I've got mine, so we're even. And do you really want to know what I want?'

'Yes love, please do tell me.'

'Very well. I want my dreams to come true. I want us to leave service and get married tomorrow. We're not old enough to retire, so we'll find a shop or a tearoom that we can run together. I don't care what we'll be doing, as long as we'll be doing it together. You were right, I love my work and my position, but it would seem I love you even more. All you had to do was ask me what I want.'

He pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair.

'Gods Elsie, I have been so stupid.'

'Yes, you were. But it's in the past now.'

'We'll hand in our letters of resignation first thing tomorrow and then we'll go see a vicar to get married. Would you like to live here in London? Because I might know a pub owner who wants to sell. But if you prefer to live in the country we'll look elsewhere.'

She laughed and to him it sounded like silver bells.

'A pub in London? That sounds exciting, but I gather we won't be having a garden then,' she said.

'A very small one. But we can have a cat,' he smiled at her.

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

'I love you Charles and I'm so happy!'

He smiled at her, ran his finger along her cheek and then over her mouth.

'My Elsie,' he whispered and then bend over to kiss her lips. A soft and gentle kiss it was, but she sighed and parted her lips to taste his mouth and tongue. When they parted, they smiled at each other, eyes sparkling and full of love.

'Elsie wait. We've skipped a rather important part,' he said suddenly.

'Did we?'

'Yes.' He stood up from the bench and then kneeled down before her.

'Elsie Hughes, I love you and I want to make you happy. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

'Yes,' she whispered.

He rose to his feet, pulled her from the bench, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.

'My love, you have just made me the happiest man on earth,' he smiled.

'And I'm the happiest woman, my dear man.'

They shared another kiss, and then Charles sighed heavily.

'I could spent the rest of the night here kissing you, but we really have to get back now,' he said.

'Let's go then,' and she took his arm.

~o~

December 24st

It had taken some time, months actually, but in the end Lord Grantham got used to call his butler Lovejoy, because that was his name. The man was almost as efficient as Carson had been, he had to admit. The new housekeeper took a lot less getting used to, Mrs Bates had been a member of the household for years.

Mr and Mrs Carson ran a small tearoom in Thirsk together, instead of a pub in London. The house in Thirsk had a garden and that had made them decide against London.

Now it was Christmas Eve, they had closed up early and were enjoying their evening off. Like they were used to for many years, they were having a glass of wine together in the evening. Their living room wasn't big, but it was pretty and a fire crackled in the hearth. In a corner stood a Christmas tree, complete with some wrapped gifts underneath it. They had bought and decorated the tree together and Elsie had been delighted.

'Our own Christmas tree, Charles! I never had one since I was a child, and I feel almost as excited!'

'It's only a small one Elsie, nothing like the one at Downton,' Charles had smiled.

'Yes, but this one is ours and therefore much more beautiful,' she'd answered, eyes sparkling.

Now she cuddled up against him on the sofa, a tartan plaid over her legs, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

'We'll have the day off tomorrow Elsie,' he said. 'The first time in decades we have Christmas Day all to ourselves. Isn't it amazing? I plan to prepare my wife a special breakfast, because for once we don't have to hurry. And then we'll walk to church.'

'And we can have a walk through the park afterwards. It'll look lovely, covered in snow.'

'And then we'll return home and unwrap our presents,' he smiled, 'although I have the most beautiful present of all sitting here right next to me,' he kissed her temple and she reached up to kiss his lips.

'That's so sweet, thank you,' she whispered.

'It's true,' he said. 'You have made me so happy Elsie, and I almost managed to ruin it. Who'd thought Cupid might take the form of Beryl Patmore?'

Elsie chuckled. 'A very unlikely Cupid, yes, but she did a wonderful job. And I'll tell you a secret. One of her own arrows hit her, and she is going to marry Mr Mason, Daisy's father in law, I received a letter from her this morning. Isn't that the second best Christmas present?'

Charles raised an eyebrow.

'I have a feeling there were other cupids involved here, two lovely girls named Daisy and Elsie?'

She giggled.

'Well yes, we might have made a suggestion now and then...But Mr Mason is the perfect man for Beryl, and Daisy is over the moon. She'll have a mum and dad for the first time in her life, she said.'

'I agree, the second best present,' Charles said. 'It has been a most unusual year.'

'It was, but I'd say it was one of the best years in my life,' Elsie whispered.

He smiled and bent down to kiss her and when their lips parted, they both whispered the same words.

'I love you.'

Charles stood up from the sofa and stretched out his arm to her, she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

'Now I'd love to take my beautiful Christmas angel to bed. It's freezing up there, but I have placed hot water bottles in our bed. And I intend to be very, very close to you my dear Mrs Carson.'

'I'd love that, Mr Carson.'

The bedroom was indeed ice cold, but the bed was warm and soft and they nestled themselves under the blankets and in each other's loving arms.

'Merry Christmas, Elsie. I love you.'

'Merry Christmas Charles. I love you, too.'

They smiled and kissed.

~o~

**THE END**

**A/N A Merry Christmas to all of you, and thank you all for your lovely and encouraging reads and reviews! **

**May all your dreams come true in the new year. Love, george.**


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